The Old Rugged Cross

by George Bennard

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, 

the emblem of suffering and shame; 

and I love that old cross where the dearest and best

for a world of lost sinners was slain.

O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,

has a wondrous attraction for me;

for the dear Lamb of God left his glory above

to bear it to dark Calvary.

What Price Freedom!

"And I say, oh that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest. Yes, I would wander far away, I would lodge in the wilderness. Selah! I would hasten to escape and to find shelter from the stormy wind and tempest" (Psalm 55:6-8).

I close my eyes and meditate on these words. As I meditate, I feel as if I'm slowly shedding every care, "every encumbrance (unnecessary weight) which so readily (deftly and cleverly) clings to and entangles me" (Heb. 12 1c AMP). Suddenly, I am one with the Dove, soaring across the heavens. As I indulge my new found freedom, I test my wings; descending and ascending, around, up, down. With all of the excitement and continual somersaulting, I begin to tire. The sky looks funny, as if a storm is brewing. Look, a hill! I think I'll rest under that tree. So much noise. No one will notice if I rest here a moment.

Our Nation's Crisis: Stand and Pray

This morning as I sought the Lord, I felt an urgency in my spirit to pray for President Obama. Yet, while I do pray for him daily, I also felt that my prayer was intercepted by my concerns with some of his policies and appointments. I honestly had to pray through my own disappointment to get to the "mercy seat" of God's presence. Later this morning I read Victoria Boyson's message. Victoria and her husband Steve are friends we have known for years; both have supported me in ministry at various times. Her word is a confirmation to the urgency I felt to pray for the president. Weigh this teaching for yourself, but also do not let your prayer be intercepted by a critical attitude.

Francis Frangipane

Our Nation's Crisis: Stand and Pray
By Victoria Boyson
(En Español)

Back in the winter of 2008, the Lord spoke to me and told me that our city, Cedar Rapids, IA, would flood. I took His warning in stride and thought, "Okay, we've flooded before and been alright. A few flooded basements and swampy yards, but we can deal with it." I prayed a prayer of protection over the city and thought nothing more about it. 

     Then, in June of that year as the melted snow and ice from Minnesota and Wisconsin starting coming down the rivers our way, it looked like a much worse flood than I'd anticipated. Cities north of us had bad flooding, so we began preparing for what we thought could happen to us. 

     But as the flooding reached our rivers, it started to rain, which greatly escalated the threat. It rained and rained and RAINED! It seemed like it hung over our city and just poured.

     Suddenly, the reality of the disaster that was occurring hit us - the rain just wouldn't stop and the river that runs through our city could not contain it. We began to pray and to take the situation very seriously: our prayers echoed the fear in our hearts. I felt the level of intercession in the city heightening. We were finally taking this threat seriously and, through prayer and intercession, the rain stopped and the flood began to recede. But it took too long for us to react.

      It flooded our downtown and many homes and businesses were destroyed. Those who could afford it, rebuilt, but many businesses closed for good. Thousands of people were suddenly left without homes, clothing and food, struggling for the basic necessities of life. 

I'll Die

(Just as physical attributes are passed on from one generation to another, so are spiritual. And just like Elisha, I have been blessed with a double portion anointing through my children. As you read this poem written by my son embrace this gift first to me--my double portion-- and now to the world.)

 

I'll Die

by Darryl D. Walker © 2006

In love with love even though I know with love I’ll die.

I try to find other means for my spirit to be revived.

But yet here I am again with love, my flesh feeling so alive.

But my spirit cries, “Why?”

‘Cause my soul can’t find any real sincerity behind loves eyes.

My flesh tells my spirit and my soul that what they see is a lie.

Feels like love, tastes like love, so it must be right.

Deny myself true intimacy, a bad choice I made,

Because I chose to love love instead of first choosing to love me.

A Love Song

 (Just as physical attributes are passed on from one generation to another, so are spiritual. As you read this poem written by my daughter, embrace this gift first to me and now to the world.)

A Love Song

By Kiera Walker 6/6/06 ©

I look at the world around me, and I am amazed at what I see.

Your detail is so intricate and so infinite beyond belief.

As the smell of each flower flirts with my nose,

I search the deeper things in life that I may see through the eyes of whom it was composed.

My eyes absorb light, reflecting the color of Your ways.

I so easily become enraptured with you- quickly falling into a daze.

I lean near Your ear to hear what I can hear.

Immediately I am consumed with the sounds of drums beating ever so clear.

The Gift of Woundedness

by Francis Frangipane 

(www.frangipane.org)

The world and all it contains was created for one purpose: to showcase the grandeur of God's Son. In Jesus, the nature of God is magnificently and perfectly revealed; He is the "express image" of God (Heb. 1:3 KJV). Yet to gaze upon Christ is also to see God's pattern for man. As we seek to be like Him, we discover that our need was created for His sufficiency. We also see that, once the redemptive nature of Christ begins to triumph in our lives, mercy begins to triumph in the world around us.

How will we recognize revival when it comes? Behold, here is the awakening we seek: men and women, young and old, all conformed to Jesus. When will revival begin? It starts the moment we say yes to becoming like Him; it spreads to others as Christ is revealed through us.

BY HIS WOUNDS I AM HEALED

by Gloria A. Walker

Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:1-5 NIV)

The three walked into the city of Jerusalem. Strange! They were told this was a busy metropolis teaming with people of all races, creed and color. Where is everyone? They stopped to ask a local merchant why the city seemed emptied of all of its citizens.

"You must be new in town. Everyone has gone to see a crucifixion."

"The whole town?" asked the first. "Isn't it a little unusual for the whole town to want to see a criminal executed?"

"This is no ordinary criminal,' replied the merchant. "He claims to be King of the Jews!"